Captive Heart Read Online Free Page B

surely he could reach a little water now.
    Gradually, the light above him grew dim until it was just a far-off sliver. Thayne felt his feet hit the bucket, and he stepped down into several inches of muddy water. Working fast, he tipped the bucket on its side, both hands reaching beneath the surface to scoop as much of the mixture in as possible. As soon as the pail was full, Thayne righted it, grasped the rope, and began pulling himself up once more.
    By the time he reached the surface, he was spent and nauseous. There was definitely something bad down there. He’d have to hold his breath longer next time. Collapsing on the grass beside Miss Madsen, he decided he had to rest a few minutes before going down again. He closed his eyes, giving in to the drowsiness, sleep claiming him in an instant.

Chapter 5
    A crack of thunder shook Emmalyne to full consciousness. Her eyes flew open as lightning flashed once again, silhouetting the outlaw standing in a doorway.
    “It’s difficult—to believe I could feel worse.” Though she hadn’t meant them to, the words came out sounding angry. Her voice was hoarse and her lips parched.
    He gave her a wry smile. “It would seem your tongue is no worse for the wear.”
    Emmalyne glared at him then turned her head, taking in her surroundings. The only light came from a misshapen mound of wax encircling a piece of twine. Its feeble flame sputtered on the floor near a fireplace. They were inside a rather crude cabin, with walls, floor, and ceiling of rough wood and earth. A steady dripping trickled from the roof in several places, making miniature pools of mud on the floor. There was no furniture save one stool and the bed she lay on—a lumpy, scratchy tick to be sure—nevertheless far better accommodations than the previous evening. And it was evening. Behind the outlaw, she saw the black of night. Where had the day gone? She remembered walking, feeling ill, and . . .
    Lightning lit the sky again, making her flinch. A few seconds later, thunder sounded directly overhead. Instinctively, she cringed, wishing away the storm. But outside it raged on, and through the open door, she saw a steady rain falling.
    She raised a hand to her forehead—an exhaustive effort—and touched a moist, cool cloth. Pulling it away, she saw it was the outlaw’s bandana.
    He came to her side. “Best leave that a while longer. Between sunburn and that fever, you’ve been plenty hot.” He took the cloth from her and placed it across her brow.
    A shiver ran through Emmalyne as his calloused fingers brushed her skin.
    “Here.” He removed his canteen and unscrewed the lid. “Remember, drink slowly.”
    She nodded and didn’t argue when he helped her sit up and bring the canteen to her lips. The water was pure heaven. She drank slow and long, not caring the least when a bit dribbled down her chin onto the front of her shirtwaist— her shirtwaist?
    Emmalyne’s head snapped up, and she looked at Mr. Kendrich accusingly. “Where are the rest of my clothes?” She crossed her arms in front of her, realizing as she did that her jacket was not the only thing missing.
    He had the audacity to look sheepish. “It was you or that corset. But both weren’t gonna make it in this heat.” He shrugged. “I figured you’d see things my way—choose practicality over fashion.”
    “Fashion has nothing to do with it, whereas modesty—”
    “And that wool,” he continued, nodding toward the foot of the bed where her jacket lay in a crumpled heap. “Winter don’t come for a few more months. There’s no need for a heat trap like that in August.” He held the canteen out to her once more.
    She snatched it away, nearly losing her balance and falling backward as she did. “So much for your noble promise.” Fortified by the water and her anger, she spoke boldly.
    His eyes narrowed. “Believe me, Miss Madsen, there was no pleasure taken in the task. Did I not require your assistance, I’d have been most happy to